


Speak softly and carry a big stick

by BigDamnReader



Series: Good Ol' Pugilism [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Feels, Fistfight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDamnReader/pseuds/BigDamnReader
Summary: Sequel to Fisticuffs. With Serenity down on her luck and the crew struggling to make ends meet, Mal and the others find salvation in the 'Iron Fist' underground competition. But the competition is hard and the other competitors are all just as eager to win and they certainly don't mind how many people they have to stamp on to get it.Chapter 5: Simon gets a surprise awakening and Kaylee makes some progress.





	1. Never goes smooth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was looking back over the original version of this story and I got the feeling that something was a little bit....off. The pacing, the action and the characters just felt wrong and so I decided to re-write what I had and change the plot a little bit. It is my sincere hope that you enjoy this new version.
> 
> Read, enjoy, hit that kudos/bookmark button and, if you want to, leave a comment telling me what you liked, what you didn't and what you would like to see.

_"Seems like the dandy ain't gettin' the money this time!"_

_The echoed words hit him like a ton of bricks seconds before the fist that doubled him over and stole his breath. A sudden kick to the chest sent him catapulting backwards into the wooden stands. Knees buckling, he felt arms in the stands snatch his shoulders and heft him up, opening his body up to the next hit, a solid gut punch. He retched, collapsing to his knees but failed at getting relief as a calloused hand twisted his hair and dragged him, barely resisting, to the centre of the ring. A kick to the back and he fell to the floor, the roaring of the crowd becoming muffled and far off. He gagged and breathed heavily, trying to push himself up on shaking arms. They were swept harshly and he went crashing back to the sandy floor, coughing harshly as cracked, probably broken ribs, screamed in protest. Moaning painfully, he turned onto his back, chest rising and falling quickly. He tried to raise his right hand into the sign of surrender but grimaced as he felt them bring grinded into the floor. Looking up fearfully, he found himself staring wide eyed into evil eyes. A devilish smirk played across his opponents face an instant before a boot came down hard on his face._

* * *

 

**_2 Weeks early_ **

"It'll be fine, Simon! Don't worry Simon! It's all totally legit and-"

"Doc, nobody's laughing."

"Oh that's good. Somebody might actually solve this then."

Mal wanted to reach round and slap the doctor - boy didn't have enough fear or respect for his captain. In his current position however, such an act was, well, impossible. The current position, he internally remarked, was definitely not a beneficial one. Tied back to back, hanging by their feet, slowly swinging and turning while being uproariously laughed at by Patience and her goons. Again, not beneficial in any way. At least there was a justified reason for this one: Got a job from Badger, travel to planet-that-isn't-Whitefall, get stitched up, handed to Patience on a hog-tied platter. Okay, maybe not 'justified' but...

"Oh Hey! Doc I know its been a while but I don't think now's the time to be feelin' people up."

The younger man sighed and (unseen by Mal) closed his eyes in exasperation. Sometimes the Captain was useful in a jam but this obviously wasn't one of those times. Ignoring the man, Simon continued to wiggle his bound hands for a minute more before letting out a harsh breath of air.

" _tiān líng líng, dì líng líng_! What a gorram surprise!"

Mal gasped in mock shock - successfully dodging a thrown _something_ \- and twisted his head so he could just see the black hair of the doctor out the corner of his left eye. "Is the good doctor angry! Oh _my!"_

"Goddamn Mal, stop messing about! How the hell-"

Simon's question was answered rather abruptly when the ropes securing them to the ceiling were cut and they fell, hard, to the floor with a loud 'thump'. With the two of them occupied by groaning in pain, men rushed forward and untied them, stepping back quickly and upholstering their guns, fingers a mite too twitchy for Mal.  Casting each other a cautious look, they pushed themselves slowly to their feet, painfully aware of the large number of weapons pointed in their general direction. As soon as they managed to stand straight, the men, without a word of command, parted in front of them to let Patience through. She was sauntering slowly towards them, caressing her gun as though it were a babe. Simon would have laughed but at this rate a sneeze alone could fill him full of at least six bullets.

"Malcom Reynolds. I warned you this would happen."

"That you did Patience" Mal made to move forward but the sudden raising of guns stopped him before he'd even taken a step. He gulped nervously. "Now how about just lettin' me and mine on our merry way."

She smiled predatorily. "No can do Mal. See, when you shot me and my boys, you lost me a lot of respect. That isn't good for a business woman." She paused and moved to the side, making way for four quite large men. Reaching the edge of the human circle, they cracked various parts of themselves, growling and grunting in an imitation of an ape (or Jayne); even Simon felt his knees wobble a little.

"Now. These boys were quite close to those you and Zoe shot up. I'm aware that ain't Zoe beside you-"

"How'd you know. Maybe she wanted a change?"

Patience smiled to humour him. "However the boy will have to do. I ain't one to give long speeches so, boys, if you would like to begin."

The crowd around them spread out slightly, forming what looked liked the place for a Secondary School fight. A great noise arose as the men chanted in excitement, watching with bloody glee as the four giants approached leisurely, obviously savouring the moment. Mal leaned in close to the, surprisingly, unmoving doctor.

"Hey Doc?"

"Yes Captain?"

"You thinkin' of doin' any of that kung-fu stuff at this time."

The Doctor looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He crossed his arms and took a step back, eyeing the still approaching men. "Um, nah, don't think I will."

"Doc wha-aaaaa!" Mal cried out as his shirt was suddenly seized and hoisted into the air, leaving his legs kicking wildly. He turned his head and looked straight at one of the ugliest smiling faces he had ever seen. He gave it a grin.

"Hey there! You folks seen my ship anywhere?"

The man snorted then, letting out a groan of exertion, he threw Mal across the room, sending him sliding a few inches along the floor; Mal groaned and drew himself to his feet slowly.

"I'll take that as a no."

Looking over, he saw Simon casually chatting to some of the goons at the edge of the circle, completely unconcerned with the danger he and the captain were in. Aware of the oncoming danger, he called out, hoping to get some actual aid.

"Hey Doc!"

The man in question looked over and waved. _Son of a bitch_. Still holding his attention, Mal gestured to the four men and tilted his head, clearly asking if Simon was interested on getting involved. Simon had the gall to shake his head. Before he could protest Mal was picked up and thrown, to the other side of the circle, once again. Raising a hand to his pounding head, Mal had to admit he was unsurprised when he was, _once again,_ picked up and thrown. Evidently they were just as bored as he was because the next time he was picked up, he found himself staring at a drawn back fist. Well, this was the end.

"As a doctor, I say that's highly dangerous for your health."

The man holding him, obviously confused, turned and suddenly found himself flat on the floor, stunned, with the vague recollection of a fist flying towards his face. The three others, staring first at their downed comrade, slowly swivelled their gaze to the well dressed, small man glaring at them. The entire room had gone silent in shock.

"Thanks Doc. Knew I could count on ya." He managed to get out.

With a roar, one of the three giants, wearing a dingy bow tie, launched himself at Simon. The doctor, seeing it from a mile away, weaved and hit out with a jab to the liver as the man flew past. Gasping in pain, he stumbled and fell to his knees, one arm wrapped around his waist. Seeing their friend in pain, the other two decided to act and began swinging wildely. Simon, laughing gaily, seemed to dance out of the way and managed to grab the right arm of the man closest to him with his left hand. In one fluid step, Simon managed to get to the back of the man, whose arm was being twisted tightly. Hating the feeling but understanding the importance of timing, Simon wrapped an arm around his chest then pulled his left hand up, disocating the shoulder at the joint. As the man sqwarked, Simon kicked the back of his knee, sending him crashing to the floor, curled in pain.

By this time the bow tie guy had gotten back to his feet and was glaring venomously at Simon. From the side, Mal watched in fascination as all hint of amusement fell away from the doctor and he dropped into his fighting stance, left side forward,  body tense and ready to attack. Bow tie went first, coming at Simon with a powerful swinging punch that Simon deflected with an outer block. Sliding in, he punched him in the diaphragm, winding him, and then trapped the stretch out arm against his body. Moving the left leg quickly behind the giant, Simon pulled it back with lightening speed while at the same time pushing his right shoulder, sending him crashing to the floor and dust flying everywhere. Seeing the final man coming at him, Simon quickly finished him off with a punch to the throat before pushing himself to his feet. Barely missing a beat, he ran a step then, launching himself high in the air off his back (left) leg, Simon shot his right foot forward, connecting solidly with the final giants face. He paused, stumbled, then fell to the floor as if pole axed.

Mal stared. The crowd stared. Everything was awkwardly silent. Then the men stared shouting in rage. Not happy with their defeat, the men began letting bullets fly into the ceiling, some even aiming them at Simon's feet. The young doctor didn't seem to care though, too focused on making sure that non of his opponents got back to their feet. Mal was wary though, and edged closer to Simon, trying to find a way out of their current predicament.

As per usual, it required a bit of thrilling heroics.

A sudden explosion rocked the room, the shockwave sending most of them to their feet. From the cloud of dust strode forth Zoe and Jayne, each pointing a rather large and rather threatening gun at the downed form of Patience. The older woman, dazedly looking at them, groaned in annoyance and rested her head back on the floor.

"Zoe, this is getting mighty boring, what you pointing a gun at me."

The soldier didn't even miss a step as she cocked her mare's leg for emphasis. "Sure is Patience. Why don't we make sure it don't happen again?"

Patience, defeated, just closed her eyes. Mal and Simon on the other hand, couldn't help but grin at the sight of their crewmates and stumbled towards them, both covered from head to toe in white powder. Jayne snorted when he saw them, then, catching sight of the four moaning bodies on the floor, grinned near manically and slapped Simon on the back, almost making him create a new person-sized hole in the wall.

"Well doc, I didn't know you were having fun; I wouldn't have interrupted if that were the case."

"Well Jayne," he replied, trying fruitlessly to brush off the dust. "I would rather you had."

They began walking out, Mal and Zoe staring incredulously at them as they passed. They caught each other gaze then shrugged, too confused to question the sudden friendliness. Zoe set off but Mal, suddenly remembering something, moved much faster, chasing after the strange pair. Simon turned around as Mal called to him in his I'm-the -Captain voice.

"Hey doc. Doc!"

"Yes Captain?"

"What was that back there? When you just ignored me and stuff."

Simon's lips turned up at the corner as he shook his head to the side, playfully tilting it and smacking his ear to try and remove some of the dust that had settled in there. Mal glared at him but the doctor didn't seem to notice it, making Mal glare even harder.

"What did you say Captain? I'm afraid I can't hear you. Dust in my ears-"

"Come of it doc, you know perfectly well what I mean."

"Probable concussion as well. Ask me later or something."

Jayne smirked and wrapped an arm around Simon's shoulders, steering him away. Rotating his head in mock concern, he said to Mal: "A concussion's pretty serious business, cap. Guess you're gonna have to talk later, yeah?"

Watching them walk away, now on the streets of some non-descript town, he barely noticed the arrival of his second in command, too busy muttering under his breath.

 " _Guay Toh Guay Nown_!"

From the distance he heard: " _Hwo Gai_ "

* * *

Returning to the ship moments later, Simon smiled earnestly at the sight of his sister on the ramp. Detangling himself from the mercenary's arm, he moved quickly towards her, wanting to assure himself that she was okay. He reached her and began to draw her into a hug.

"Mei-mei, I-"

She slapped him. Hard. Then she hugged him, wrapping herself around him and giggling as his mouth dropped open in shock. He heard Jayne chortling in the background, hand slapping on his knee.

"Silly brother. Not good to make fun of others. Wrong."

Sighing in resignation, he returned the embrace, trying to ignore his stinging cheek. It still was strange that she was a reader but he guessed that, before long, he would get used to it, one way or the other.

"No mei-mei, you're right, its not good to make fun of others."

She pulled back, smiling at him cheekily. "It's funny though."

"Oh great." Mal bemoaned, reaching the top of the ramp and pushing the button for it to close. "Now I got both of 'em conspiring against me. Zoe, what's happening."

She looked at him, face as stoic as usual. "I don't know sir, must be mutiny. Hell, I might even join up, girl makes a good point."

Staring at her in shock, Mal rubbed a hand across his chest and began uttering to himself.

"Gorram _Feng-le_ crew. Don't know how good they got it. Should leave them to a _Ba Wong_ Captain. Watch how quick they all come back."

He stopped when he realised nobody was paying any attention: Zoe had disappeared to the bridge, no doubt to see her husband, Jayne was doing one of too many things Mal didn't want to know about, and Simon was being distracted by the arrival of Kaylee. Man was absolutely besotted with her and, since the Jubal Early incident, the two had really worked hard at it, both sides spurred on by the traumatic experience. He wanted to be sick at the sight of goo-goo eyes but managed to refrain.

Dignity intact, he set off with the intention of reaching the kitchen but, like most of his plans, nothing ever went smooth. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard Wash paging him on the comm system . The audible worry in the usually euphoric pilot instantly put him on edge and he instantly turned and ran the second he heard Wash answer his call.

"You're gonna wanna see this Mal. There's something really wrong." 


	2. Eye of the hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the wait but I'm here now and ready to deliver unto you a rather emotional chapter.  
> Ready for some Simon/Mal bonding? Well you better be because here it is!

Hearing those dreaded words, Mal quickly made his way to the bridge, certain that if he were a religious man - which he was not- he would be sending a prayer to the great Almighty that he would get there before anything exploded. The journey seemed to tale a year and by the time he finally paused in the bridge doorway, his mind had conjured up many terrible realities, each one more disastrous than the last; seeing his pilot with pale face and chewed lips, part of him just wanted to turn around and go to his bunk.

"Mal-Cap'n I-"

"Cut it Wash. Just..get to the details."

"Details, right. Of course."

Wash swung his chair around so it was once again facing the console and Mal followed him round, strangely aware of the creaking as his booted feet moved across the metal grating. His attention was moved again however, as he caught sight of the Christmas tree that was the pilot's console- every light was flashing. Unlike a Christmas tree though, Mal knew he wasn't going to be feeling very jolly any time soon.

"Well, y'know how the systems been a bit _Tian Di Wu Yowng_  for the past week."

"The reason we took that job that ended up with Patience, if I recall." Cut in Zoe as she appeared from the ladder between the Pilot's and Co-Pilot's stations. Mal shared a look with her, moving back an inch so she could fit beside him. Only from being with her so long did he recognise the small hint of worry in her face.

" _Yeah._ Well, I managed to get it working and, well.." he drifted off, arm gesturing to the flashing lights around him. Mal was about to ask him what it meant but it seemed Wash had an unusually one-track mind at the moment. "Everything -and I mean _everything_ \- is in the red Mal."

"Air filtration?"

"Yeah."

"Heating systems?"

"Yep."

"Engine?"

"Sir." Said Zoe, interrupting with a pointed look. "If he says its all in trouble, then he means its all in trouble."

Mal closed his eyes in resignation, letting out a heavy breath as the sheer weight of the situation settled on him. Serenity was a sturdy ship and Kaylee was a _Jing tsai_  mechanic but even the two of them together would struggle to fix the ship now. He began to pace, hyper aware of the eyes of his crew following his every step. Gorram! He hated being backed into a corner, hated being forced to make a bad decision, hated how much it reminded him of the Valley. Mal stopped thinking, his feet following a second after. Turning to Wash with lightening speed, he ignored the Pilot's flinch and stepped into his space.

"How long?"

"What-"

"How long can we go for?"

Wash paused, head tilted as he thought. "About a week, if we cut back and drift as much as possible."

"Zoe!" He cried, spinning to face her. "Find us the nearest planet. Don't care if its a backwards moon full o' hillfolk, just find it."

Zoe nodded, glad of something to do.

* * *

So the crew was on its way to Cratos, a small planet on the ass-end of the verse that Zoe had found after hours of searching. Mal had informed the crew as to their situation in what had to be one of the tensest meetings they'd had on the ship, even counting Simon's explanation when half the crew had wanted to kill him and the other set him down on somewhere like Cratos. The crew had, with their usual vigour, responded to his explanation with a flurry of questions that left him reeling. Poor Kaylee, devastated at the thought of her beloved ship turning to scrap under her nose, had taken to staying in the engine room for hour each day, only coming out for food or when Simon managed to coax her out with his new found ability to speak to women. Apparently Inara had been giving classes.

They had been all but drifting for three days now, boredom and stress beginning to take their toll; even Book had clenched the salt a mite too hard when Wash started casting glances at it, hoping to add some flavour to the mushy protein they had to ration out. Card games only entertained for so long and, although Mal would have liked to see Simon kung-fu the _Da Bian_ out of Jayne when he was caught cheating, Zoe had reminded him that it was a good idea to have a doctor _and_ mercenary on board. Either way, their arrival on Cratos, scheduled for two days ahead, would be a welcome relief and certainly wouldn't come too soon.  

Walking along the catwalk, Mal became aware of a repetitive thudding from below him. Curious, Mal leaned over the railing, eyebrows raising as he took the action in the cargo bay. Simon, dressed only in slacks, was methodically striking a ragged punching bag hung from the metal walkway connecting the two shuttles. He remembered getting it for cheap for the doctor's birthday but he could never recall seeing him use it. Watching him closely, Mal couldn't help but admire the subtle ferocity in his movements. Lithe muscles, built up by years of dedicated practice, sheened with sweat and even from his positon at the top of the ship, Mal could hear his breathing. Seemed the boy had been working out here for a while.

Simon, focused solely on the bag in front of him, did not notice Mal making his way towards the floor of the cargo bay. His attacks had no order, no combination, just repetitive strikes testing his endurance and relasing some pent-up steam. He had become restless, dulled by the lack of any mental stimulus and so had decided to take advantage of Jayne napping by heading to the cargo bay. As his mind began to drift back to the Captain's talk three days prior, Simon felt himself growing more aggressive, fists sending the bag spinning wildly. They were drifting, unable to do anything about it. River, upset by the concerns of the crew, had retreated to how she was in their first few months, mind overcome by noises only she could hear; Simon couldn't help her, medicine supplies also at breaking point. Even further, Kaylee was struggling to see any light in their situation and seeing her sad made him feel terrible - even if it wasn't his fault- and that just put his back against the wall. He was completely useless and it was irking him, his inability to solve their situation -while rationally illogical- still made him feel guilty. Rage building rapidly, Simon took half a step back then spun with lightening speed, unleashing a furious spinning hook kick that sent the bag flying off it's chain.

_"Simon!" Cried Sam Langford, making his way over to the boy. "What the Guai d'ya think you're doing, lashing out at the equipment like that?"_

_Simon didn't even look at him, hard eyes glaring at the fallen bag at his feet, body trembling with adrenaline and something..else. Another feeling, one as of yet unknown to Sam. Sam let the silence linger for a moment then reached out to grab the boy's arm. Feeling Simon pull away, he snatched his chin between his fingers and moved his head so they were facing one another. Simon's eyes were alive with emotion and it didn't even take a second for Sam to recognise what it was: Anger. Simon tried to get out his grip, hands moving swiftly, trying to utilise his training. Sam slapped them away, growling softly._

_"Don't even try boy. I done taught you them moves."_

_"The student has outdone the teacher before."_

_"Not in this case, boy."_

_Simon grunted and ceased his struggling, gazing straight at Sam with a tired expression; Sam had known it wouldn't last long._

"That bag done you some injustice?"

Simon snapped out of his musings with a small 'huh', turning around to face the Captain with a confused expression. At Mal's pointed look, Simon located the fallen bag and let out a small 'oh' as he realised what had happened. Letting out a small chuckle, he followed Mal as he sat on Jayne's workbench, lowering himself down with a groan. Mal smirked at him and handed him the small towel he had brought in with him, waiting while the doctor moped his face. Simon did so and leaned back with a grateful sigh, body letting all its aches be known.

"You been out here long?"

"What time is it?"

"Bout 5 by my reckoning."

"Yeah..I've been out here long."

The two shared a chortle and it echoed across the cargo bay, making it seem full of men. Mal, always one to tease the younger man despite their mutual respect, leaned in close and took a big sniff, shooting back with an exaggerated cry.

"Phooee, doc. You don't smell pretty."

" _Really?"_

"Yeah, you been using some of Jayne's aftershave?"

"Wait." he replied, looking at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Jayne has _aftershave?_ "

Mal smiled at him, happy to see some of the tension release from his shoulders. He knew it had been a hard couple of months for the boy, what with Mrs. Niska and Jubal and their current position, so it was good to see the boy still knew how to relax. He would be a bad leader though if he didn't still see something wrong.

"So doc, you wanna tell me what's eating at ya? Disregarding our current misfortune that is." He added on at the sarcastic look shot his way. Boy just didn't know when to help himself.

_"What's eatin' at ya boy? Don't normally see ya so down and out."_

_They were say in his office, the small room clustered with piles of paper and hazy with heat. Simon, pale and red-eyed, sat opposite him, one hand clenched around the cup of water Sam had offered him earlier. As if only hearing him for the first time, Simon slowly raised his head and let out a long sigh, slumping heavily in his seat. Knowing his student well, Sam leaned back in his chair and waited for the boy the open up, knowing that pushing him would only make him clamp up tighter that a banker's wallet at a charity ball._

_"My friend...he's sick. Real sick. I don't know what he's got but," He paused, small body deflating further. "It doesn't look good. He doesn't look good."_

_"And you can't help him, is that it?"_

_That seemed to be the ticket, Simon's head snapping to his with a defensive look on his face._

_"I'm not useless. I'm not. I can help him, I know I can."_

Mal watched panic light in Simon's eyes for a second before settling down to their usual restrained appearance. His mouth gaped and his brow furrowed, obviously trying to come up with something to say. Watching closely, Mal could all but see the exact moment the boy gave in to his worry.

"It seems that since I got on this ship, I've done everything wrong. I've always done my best to try and fix it but...what if I can't fix it this time? I know, of course, that in terms of actually putting the ship back together, that's best left down to Wash and Kaylee- that event last month with the calibrator proved that. I mean, I promised River I'd keep her safe. I promised Kaylee that I would always be there to help her. I promised this crew." He gestured towards the bowel of the ship. "that, as their doctor, I would take care of them. And now look: I can't do anything. I'm..I'm useless."

Mal took a moment to study the slumped figure next to him. He saw the defeated gaze, the tired aura coming off him, the trembling as his body came down from the high, and sighed in exasperation. Seemed that, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get into Simon's head that he was allowed to be less than perfect, allowed to lean back and let others take the lead. Considering Inara was like that a lot of the time, Mal had to wonder if they were taught that attitude in those fancy-core schools they no doubt both attended. He leaned forward, hands hanging between his legs.

"I'm not gonna lie doc, we're in a tough spot. We all could have done better spottin' the signs but..we're all where we are now and so we better accept it and move on. I know you got your sister and little Kaylee to look out for but, doc." He slapped him on the back, almost sending him crashing off the bench. "You gotta realise they can look out for themselves. Ain't your fault we're in this tricky position and I don't want you making it worse by moping around. Kaylee's relying on you to make her happy y'know."

"That's a first."

Mal was about to respond when he heard a loud clanging on the steps above them. Both men swivelled their necks to spot the mercenary lumbering his way down towards them, a ferocious grin on his face. Simon and Mal stood, painfully aware of the fact they were sitting (or sweating, in Simon's case) on the man's workbench. Not a word was spoken till Jayne reach the bottom, heavy boots slamming on the floor.

"Hey doc."

"Yeah Jayne."

The man in question began to move towards them, flexing his muscles. "That's my bench."

"Well done Jayne. You've mastered basic observation."

"I'm thinking you owe me."

Simon licked his lips, tongue darting out in nervous anticipation. "How did you get to that conclusion?"

"Well that's my bench. You're on it. I say you gotta pay me back with a sparring match, see how well you match up to a _real_ fighter."

Simon seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding and stepping away from the bench, handing Mal the towel as he went. Jayne gave a toothy smile and stopped moving a metre away from the smaller man. Deep down he knew he should stop it but, like he'd told Atherton, he was 'all right' and prone to these slight temptations. He settled back down on the bench to watch.

Simon quickly dropped into his stance and waited, body swaying slightly as he watched Jayne with hawk eyes. Jayne, never a man for patience, lunged forward with a fierce hook punch that would have, no doubt, knocked the head off a normal man. Simon, however, just shuffled back a step, hitting Jayne in the gut when the force of the swing sent him stumbling forward. He let out a groan but quickly shook it off, righting himself and facing Simon once again. Jayne let out with two jabs to his face but was surprised when Simon drew back into a short stance, deflecting the first jab with an inner elbow block. Due to the stance movement, the second flew past his head, missing it by centimetres. Before he could withdraw his right arm- the one that had struck first, Simon grabbed it in a vice grip, doing similar to his left arm as it reached the end of his jab. Both arms now tightly in his grasp, Simon began to push Jayne back, pulling and pushing before finally pulling hard on the left arm, shooting his right leg round the outside of Jayne's left and pulling it back, sending the much larger man cartwheeling to the ground with a harsh grunt.

Nobody moved for a second. Then, from the metal walkway, came the sound of clapping and cheering. Looking up, the three men saw Wash, Kaylee and River celebrating. At the sound of more polite clapping, they spotted the other members of the crew on the catwalk, looking on in interest. Simon looked down bashfully while Jayne, aggression gone, grumbled good naturedly as he clambered to his feet, the world still spinning slightly.

"Hell, I was goin' easy on him. I could o' beaten him."

"Nu-huh Jayne." Beamed Kaylee, the smile in her face a nice change from the past days. "Simon's too good. He would still o' beaten ya with both hands tied behind his back."

Simon, ever self-conscious, tried to duck away from the praise with a small smile and bent head until River jumped down and smacked him hard. At his offended squawk she merely stuck her tongue out at him and reminded him that, while he may be a good fighter, he could never beat her. The fight seemed to have released all the crew from a sorrowful spell and they stayed in the cargo bay for at least another hour.

Dinner was the best it had been for a while.

* * *

The ship shuddered, groaned then seemed to die. They had landed. The crew waited with baited breath for the doors to open onto freedom and fresh air. The last two days, despite their shaking off of disparity, were torturous and nobody could wait to get outside and out of the flying death trap.

_"Now you listen to me, boy."_

Serenity had done well, admittedly. They had pretty much nothing left and the poor girl had been drifting for the past few hours yet still managed to deliver them, unscathed, to Cratos. Only Serenity could have done that, they reckoned.

_"Sometimes there ain't nothing a man can do."_

Seeing his crew stood, eyes plastered on the raised ramp, Mal leaned forward and slammed his hand down on the release button, himself eagerly awaiting the rush of fresh air that would not doubt flood the bay. He was pretty sure one of Jayne's farts had been swamping the place for a while.

_"But we can't let it get a hold of us. Can't let it control us."_

At the familiar creaking, the crew stepped forward in anticipation. Escape had all but consumed their mind for the last hours.

_"If there's one thing you take from this gym, boy."_

As the ramp landed, the crew walked out as though in a daze. They drunk in the fresh air, eyes teary at the bright light of the sun shining on them. The smell of wildlife, once never noticed, seem to flood their senses. Nobody complained.

_"Think with sense, not with sentiment."_

 


	3. Roll up! Roll up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after a very long hiatus, I've returned to edit/continue this story, starting with an edit of this chapter. I rushed this one originally and so when it came out it just stumped me and I wasn't able to figure my way out of it. I didn't want to delete the story and start over (again, that is) so I've decided - rightly or wrongly- that I will edit this chapter before carrying on. Apologies for the wait and any annoyance caused but to err is human. 
> 
> Really hope you enjoy and are not to angry

Jayne was gorram bored.

They'd landed days earlier and so far nothing had been done to fix Serenity, no matter how much Mal went on about 'finding the right opportunity' or Kaylee insisted she could get it for cheap. The ship, looking worse than some of the ships in the junkyard, had sat in port and would, so far as Jayne was concerned, continue to do so until Jesus hisself came and resurrected it. Cratos was too big to be a pit stop but too small to have any jobs for a vagabond crew in need of repairs. Jayne would know; he'd been circling the settlements since they'd arrived and unless he wanted a job as a gong farmer, then there was nothing to be found. Jayne wasn't that desperate but if Mal really wanted the ship in a hurry, then he was more than welcome to it. 

Rambling down what could be generously called the 'main street', Jayne's eyes were slowly swiping left to right, lazily cautious. There had been no trouble about their presence there but Jayne didn't last as long as he'd done without being a little careful every now and then. The locals weren't likely to appreciate them much longer, especially with the way Mal had been storming around the place, brown coat flying behind him in the dusty wind. Hell, even Wash had looked like he'd wanted to punch the captain last night at dinner and it didn't seem like Zoe was in line to stop him. With his hands on his hips (and his guns), Jayne made sure nobody looked too long at him as he made his way down the long street. 

It was a pretty standard settlement: A general store, various bland faced hodge-podge buildings, a meeting house, a doctors office (no work there) and a small, blink-and-you'll-miss-it train station. Jayne and Zoe had used the train during the first few days to visit the other settlements and see if there was anybody willing to sell cheap or offer work in return for repairs. No luck there. All in all, Cratos was boring. Though, he thought, his eyes catching the one building he'd yet to grace, there was  _one_ building that could be exciting. One building in this whole gorram town. Jingling the few coins in his pockets and looking around for anybody he knew, Jayne licked his lips and headed towards  _The Butcher's Saw._

A typical saloon swing door opened to a small, dingy little room filled with the twinking of a badly played piano and the general hubbub of a bar. Half the town had to be in there so it was pretty packed and Jayne had to push a little here and shove a little there to reach the bar. When he did, he was dutifully ignored by the barman in favour of some old geezers who'd probably never got out of the seat for 10 years. Jayne banged the counter with a growl but the barman just flicked his eyes over and returned his attention back to the pint he was pouring. Jayne offered him another growl before falling silent and waiting for his turn. He'd been in enough back-planet bars to know the barmen aren't the ones to mess with. An annoyed huff at his elbow drew his gaze and he found himself staring at a red-faced, heavy set man panting in what could only be described as constipated anger. He shifted a bit, unfortunately drawing attention to himself. Small, piggish eyes turned to him then widened in happy surprise. Jayne wondered what he'd just let himself in for.

"We-e-ell well, lookie hyar,  _sir!_ Ain't you just the biggest man I ever done saw round these hyar pa-arts?" His voice drawled and dripped so much Jayne wondered if he'd have to grab a jar to pick up some of the words. "Ye-es  _Sir,_ tell me..you use them muscles o'yours or are you just for show?"

It took Jayne a moment to realise he was supposed to answer. It took him a moment more to actually find any intelligible words.

"Uhh, yeah. I do...use them, that is."

"We-e-ll  _Sir,_ bless the lord and all his liddle kiddies. How would you like to make a quick buck son? No joke son, no joke at all! A quick buck, all you gotta do is say yes."

"What've I got to do?" This man was making his gorram head pound!

"What've I got to do he says, what've I got. to. do  _Sir!_ You a smart one aint ya! Well boy a-tell ya, you just come with me and I will show you what I would like you to do."

With a small hesitation and a quick look around, Jayne decided to follow this peculiar individual through a side door that seemed to materialise from no where.

* * *

Simon largely regretted telling his sister to go entertain herself. Looking around the remains of his infirmary, he concluded that he  _really_ regretted telling her to go entertain herself. Was that a scalpel hanging from the overhead light? Shaking his head in resignation, he stepped into the room, stopping with a flinch when he heard the glass crunching under his foot. She'd probably felt his annoyance at her and decided retribution was required. To his credit, they'd been stuck on this godforsaken planet and he'd tried keeping her occupied for the whole time but there was only so many times one could play hide-and-seek with a reader before it became too much. 

The rest of the crew was out, fortunately. Kaylee, River and Inara had, after the siblings squabble, gone out for a walk into the settlement to the general store. He didn't expect them to actually buy anything but he appreciated the gesture. Mal had gone job/part searching again and Simon reckoned he'd come away with about as much as the girls would. You don't lift a rock twice and expect to find a different animal, after all. Wash and Zoe had gone for a walk around the area, leaving him alone. Hooray for togetherness. He sighed and continued into the room, heading towards the cleaning cupboard and hoping he'd picked up enough on there last -planned- stop. 

He'd not even reached the cupboard when the sound of banging footsteps on grated metal drew his attention to the door, where a red-faced, gasping Jayne stood. One finger in the air, bent double with his hands on his knees, Jayne looked like he'd used more energy reaching the ship in those few minutes than Simon had since they'd landed. He stretched an arm out and grabbed the strap of his med-bag and waited for the casualty list. What he wasn't prepared for was the large grin on the merc's face when he finally stood up. Oh god, Mal had been shot hadn't he. His grip tightened until Jayne started laughing and tugged it out his hands with emasculating ease. An image of a piece of candy and a baby flew into his mind. 

"Doc, it's okay, nobodies been shot this time. "

"That's...great Jayne, but what do you want?"

"I have an opportunity for you doc-"

"Jayne that's not suspicious at-"

"Just listen doc! It's gorram simple! You just gotta come with me, do some of that hong-fu thing you do and then we're rolling in it! Come on!" The larger man turned quickly and made his way towards the cargo bay, Simon's panicked voice the only thing stopping him. 

"Hong-fu! Hong-fu Jayne! What have you got me in for you ape? I'm not like some whore you can just loan out-"

"Doc," a hand on his arm stopped his tirade and he looked up into narrowed eyes. "This ship ain't got much money and we haven't got one thing to fix it with! Gorram it doc, we could just sit here, playin' with ourselves, or you could come with me and we could make some headway. Now, for the last  _gorram_ time, come on!"

With an annoyed huff and a last longing look at his infirmary, Simon followed the Merc out of the ship.

* * *

 Jayne was pretty sure Simon was shouting at him. Probably throwing in a lot of cuss words in there. It sure would be fun to hear them but the large crowd yelling in excitement kind of made him deaf to anything other than the men in the arena. He was scanning the men, searching for Mr. Picks, the 'entrepreneur' who'd approached him earlier. It didn't take too long though for Mr Picks to find  _him._

_Jayne you utter-_

"We-e-ell  _Sir!_ Is this the young man? He-a don't look like much." His voice tailed at the end and Jayne had to practically follow the words to the floor to pick them up.

_Wait till I get my hands on you, you ignorant-_

"I know he don't look like much but I assure you he's the best you can get."

_Are you listening to me you Jayne, you giant-_

"We-e-ell okay sir, if you say so. He certainly seems eager." He was certainly right there, Jayne supposed. With his red, screwed up face, the doc certainly seemed ready to fight anyone. "Just get him over to that get there and we shall begin,  _Sir!"_ He waved the two of them towards the wooden arena and moved away to the side of the ring, heavy frame making it groan audibly above the yelling and the shouting.

_Jayne I swear to all the gods above-_

"Shut up Doc!" He yelled into the boy's ear. "Its happening now and its for a good amount of money as well. Just put up a good show, alright?"

With that he patted Simon on the shoulder, ignored the glare sent his way, and went to join Mr Picks on the side line. They had to wait for the current fight - slow, sloppy, not at all as good as the Doc was in his opinion- to finish before the young man was pushed onto the sandy floor, to the uproarious cries of the crowd, eager for their blood sport. Simon seemed undaunted, maintaining his glare at the mercenary instead of reacting to taints fired his way. Most recognised him as being part of the hapless crew that landed (read crashed) earlier. The taunting only grew as his opponent stepped into the ring. 

The only word to describe him was big. Real. Gorram. _B_ _ig._ The guy had muscles for days that even Jayne couldn't help but feel jealous of. He clenched and unclenched to the cheers of the crowd, cracking his knuckles as he sized Simon up. It only took a second then he started laughing loudly, pointing to the small doctor in the ring.

"This! This is the boy I'm to fight! Ha! Give me a real opponent, I ask you!" He sauntered around the ring, circling Simon like a lion and its prey. When it became apparent that he would not, in fact, be getting a new opponent, he let out a roar and began to bang his chest. The crowd stirred into a frenzy but Jayne only had eyes for the man in the middle. Simon, no longer looking at Jayne, was seemingly distracted by the noise, by the smell, by the desire for blood. Simon was no longer in the arena with Jayne, but in the cage with Mrs Niska. Jayne could see his chest heaving and he just knew he was seeing the prison pit again. The big man was gearing up for an attack and Simon wasn't aware of it. He could see Picks in the corner of his eye, staring at him in confusion and Jayne had to fight the desire to jump into the ring and shake the younger man. Too late however: the man charged and, with one large shoulder, he took Simon to the floor.

The world seemed to fall silent as Simon hit the floor, head banging painfully. He gasped for air then a fist was on him. Then another, then another. Jayne watched, horrified, as Simon stared dumbly at his attacker. God this was a mistake. He waved his arm to attract the attention of the broker but it was lost as the spectators roared in excitement. Jayne fought his instinct to look away: he got Simon into this mess, he would certainly see him through it. But, to his surprise, he looked back at the fight only to see big man go flying as Simon's fist got him right in the ear. The noise flooded back to him as Simon rolled backwards to his feet, shaking his head and pulling his jumper over his head. His guard came up, just in time to deflect a straight punch and retaliate with one of his own. BG's head snapped back and Simon followed him with a forward kick to solar plexus. The crowd soaked it up with cheers and yells, spittle flying. Simon advanced forward, lashing out with a hook to the jaw then an uppercut. The other guy hit the wooden wall with a thud and blinded by rage, pushed off it, straight into Simon's straight arm. He went to the floor with a choke but Simon didn't wait and Jayne let out a loud 'Yeah!' as the doc grabbed his elbow and pushed it up his back, other leg kneeling on the flailing arm. He slowly began pushing it further up, applying more and more pressure until finally, Big guy tapped out. 

Simon stepped back with his arms raised, mouth opened in triumphant yell. The room was filled with groans from those that lost their money, and cheers from those who filled their pockets. Jayne let out a wild whoop and vaulted over the barrier, picking the doc up and spinning him round in joy. Letting him down, he reached out and grabbed Simon's head, pulling their foreheads together. Both men were panting, wide grins and breathless laughs. Jayne ruffled his hair and it spoke that Simon didn't even pad at him. 

"Gorram it doc! You did it! Ha-ha you did it doc!"

 


	4. Good fortunes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So again, sorry for the long wait. For those who haven't seen it, I have changed chapter 3 which I am blaming for my hiatus these many months. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy.

"How dare you look down your nose at me?"

Upon reflection, Simon decided that the celebration could have gone a little better. When the glass was thrown, it hardly needed saying that things were not turning out very well. It was especially upsetting considering how well the start of the night had gone. 

Following his fight, Jayne had dragged Simon back up to the bar and promptly ordered the local beverage. It had looked like go-shi and had tasted substantially worse but Simon hadn't cared, euphoria and adrenaline eagerly carrying him into the arms of intoxication. The patrons, many of them spectators to the fight, readily plied him -and a much enthusiastic Jayne- with drinks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice monotonously reminded him of such things as  _work_ and  _responsibility_ but the more he drank, the smaller it became, till Simon was left questioning its existence.The night carried on with much revelry, including a rather memorable piece of karaoke, scanty red knickers and ping pong balls. The drinks kept flowing and the two crew members happily complied, letting the horrid liquid ooze down their throats. A whole line of men had come backslapping and shouting their way to the table, and the doctor and mercenary had happily hosted them, so far as they paid for the seats with more alcohol. 

Eventually however, the bar had died down and many of the patrons had left the bar to return home, knowledge of their morning labours sending them on their way. Even Simon and Jayne, allowing themselves to be carried away after weeks of frustration, decided to call it a night and, shouting goodbye to the few bodies slumped over chairs and tables, pushed their way through the doors and out into the street. It was, as expected for the early hours, empty with no lights in the windows of the houses; only a lamppost at the end of the street was visible in the pre-dawn darkness. Like moths, Simon and Jayne stumbled towards it. They managed to reach it after battling moving earth and rising nausea and fell against the metal, drunken giggles falling from their mouths like rain. Neither of them had noticed the gang lolling around the opposite building, but they had certainly noticed them. 

Grinning like wolves, they crossed the street. Simon and Jayne, still ignorant, were staring at the next light in contemplation, questioning its distance and their ability to reach it. Finally hearing the scuffle of boots on dirt they turned their heads and waited for the rather large group to reach them. Drawing to a stop, they straightened up against the post, wondering where this vent was going to lead them; To the next pub hopefully. 

"Gentlemen!" Began the tall one in front. "You two seem to be having a good time."

The two crew mates laughed as though it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard. "You are apso-absolutely right! We -that is me and my good friend here- are celebrating!" 

The group laughed though Simon didn't really find the funny side, especially considering they were all merging from two, to one, to two again. That seemed quite serious and they should probably get themselves checked out at the doctors. Wait! He was a doctor!

"What are you celebrating?" They seemed really interested, crowding around the two of them and patting them on the arm and the back.

"Why the victory of course!" Bellowed Jayne. "My friend here, why he just won a whoooooole bag o'cash!"

"A whole bag? That seems quite a lot, wouldntcha say, Sam?"

"Yeah," replied Sam, grinning. Simon tried to keep track of all the men but his head was spinning and there were  _so many._  "Well done guys. Say, if you got a whoooooole bag o'cash," Jayne stared at him, trying to decide if he was being mocked. "Why don't you share some of it with us."

Both men finally seemed to realise the situation was no longer funny and the grins fell from their faces like a stone. They pushed themselves off the lamppost and tried to keep an eye on the now sinister men. That was when they quickly discovered the problem with having so much merriment. Both of them stumbled as they tried to keep on top of it all but it felt as though they were chasing a mouse through a house of mirrors. 

"Yeah, come one. Be generous. Gives us some."

"N-no, I don't think so. It's mine after all." Said Simon.

"Aw come on dandy," somebody shoved his shoulder and he spun to catch them, only to stumble and have to grab Jayne's arm. "Give us the money."

Simon took great offence at that. He was not a dandy, thank you very much! He might be a master criminal (traditional as well), doctor fugitive extraordinaire but he was certainly not a dandy! Looking at them though, he doubted they'd be able to understand all those long words.

"Don't you know the rules then?" He shot back. "The dandy gets the money, not the peasants at the bottom!" Jayne roared humourously and slapped him on the back. The men around them didn't seem to agree though if the clenched fists were anything to go by. 

"What'd you just say, you stuck up core pig! How dare you look down your nose at me?"

"Hey! Why don't you back-"

"We-e-ell, _Sirs!_  This seems like quite the part-ay! Mind if I join in?" Simon never thought he would be happy to see Mr Picks but it seemed he could still be suprised.

"Mr Picks! What can we do for you?" Asked one of the men, suddenly respectful. Picks looked at him with suspicious eyes before smiling happily and gesturing at the two Serenity members.

"Why I just came to see these two marvellous gentlemen o'course! We have some business to diss-cus, _Sirs._ Might I suggest you move along so I might discuss it with these two in private?" 

It was quite obvious they did not want to move along but Mr Picks obviously had some weight in this town and they weren't ready to cross it. The silence lasted only for a few seconds but the danger in it rang loudly. Sam grinned at Mr Picks and gestured to his friends who started to move away. Sam himself turned to look at Simon, still with the grin, before spitting at his feet and stepping away. It was only by the doctor's hand that Jayne didn't try to make him suck it back in. The three of them watched the group stroll away in silence.

"We-ell _Sirs,_ they were a nasty bunch weren't they?" 

"Yeah, sure. Whaddya want anyhow?" Picks turned his 1000 watt smile at the rude mercenary and gestured back towards the bar they had just left. 

"If you two would just follow me...."

* * *

 Captain Mal Reynolds was not a man to be trifled with. Especially if Captain Mal Reynolds was angry. He'd returned from his trip to find his ship empty, unlocked and in disarray. He had waited -with restrained patience- as his crew had trampled in: the girls giggling at some joke and the Washbourne's with their arms intwined. Then he had waited for the more troublesome members of his crew to find their way back. And waited. And waited. 

It reached the early hours of the morning and Mal was fuming. He couldn't wait for them to return so he could give them a piece of his mind. Earlier, when the sun was just beginning to poke itself above the horizon, Mal had briefly entertained the thought of looking for them, the idea skirting around his head that something bad had happened. Then he remembered what rock they were sat on, as well as the fact it was about as dangerous as Kaylee in a field of strawberries, and decided he would just wait for them. His eyes were sore from being peeled at the horizon but he didn't move from his spot, determined to give them what they deserved. Every agonising second would pay off. 

Finally, spots in the distance, he could see his wayward crew members. Stumbling and leaning against each other, he could hear their triumphant voices and the idea of them being _drunk,_ and him standing there waiting for them for hours made his blood boil. They were getting closer now, ignorant to the raging storm they were sailing into. Mal began to stalk forwards, slow steps banging the metal beneath his feet sinisterly. Closer, closer, closer...

"Well, well! Look who winds up on my ship!" The sarcasm practically oozed in lumps from him and Mak couldn't help his satisfied grin as they both winced and flinched back. "It took you long enough! Did you get lost, huh? Couldn't find your way from the bar?" His voice rose in increments. 

Jayne, shuffling forward, raised his hand placatingly. "Mal, I ain't like that-"

"Then what's it like Jayne? Cause from where I'm standin', it seems pretty _gorram_ clear that you two decided you weren't going to do your part of playing crew-"

"Captain _please-"_

 _"_ No doc, you just listen to me!" Both men stepped back, heads bowed like chastened schoolboys. "I come back to a filthy ship with no crew only to find you two have absconded. Gone. Vanished.to.the.bar! Jayne I expected this at sometime but doc, I gotta say-"

"Captain if you would just _listen-"_

 _"Captain if you would just listen my pi-gou!_  You two _will_ be scrubbing every inch of my ship and you damn well better know you won't be leaving it for the rest of our time here! Do I make myself clear?" Mal's voice reached its height and even the crew who had come to see what all the noise was, winced at the volume. Jayne and Simon, the objects of the anger, we're all but shaking, the hangover and come-down of adrenaline weakening their resolves. Simon decided he had the best shot of appealing to the captain and stepped forward.

"Captain, I have to say-"

"Oh you _do,_ do you? And what does the mighty doctor have to say, huh? Was there some medical emergency?

"Well no-"

"Or some marvel you just had to see?"

"No, but Captain-"

"Did more pregnant whores make themselves known or-"

It was Mal's turn to fall silent as a bag fell at his feet, emitting a large 'thump' that echoed around the cargo bay. He stared at it for a moment then bent over and picked it up, carefully untying the string holding it closed. The crew let out startled noises as he pulled money from within. It wasn't a lot, not by any standards, but it was enough to get them one or two basic replacements for Kaylee to play with. Mal looked at the two not-so-guilty looking culprits. Jayne answered the unasked question.

"It's our winnin's. Doc's really. That's where we were, see? I met a guy at the bar who said we could make some money, so I went and got the doc-"

"Dragged me really." Simon interjected

"Yeah, well. We went and doc beat the go-shi outta this guy and won us that." 

Mal was silent, too stumped to speak. He was still annoyed at them for waltzing out, but he couldn't really get angry when they'd just got the first bit of money Mal had seen in weeks. He was about to question them further when Simon carried on the explanation. 

"We...celebrated and then, while we were on our way here, Mr Picks -the guy who spoke to Jayne- caught up to us and gave us an offer. That was then followed by a few more drinks and...."

"What kind of offer?" This from Zoe who was walking down the catwalk steps. Mal was still dumbfounded by the pouch in his hand.

"There is a competition, here. The neighbouring towns all take part. Even some from nearby moons as well. Winner gets a lump sum, more than enough to cover our expenses."

"And you agreed to it?" Looking at their faces, the answer didn't need to be said. Only an idiot wouldn't see it for the opportunity it was and, though it was sometimes debatable, neither of the two were stupid. However, they all looked to Mal, knowing he would have the final say no matter how much protest would be put in place. The captain seemed to be seriously considering their words. It was a good deal, that was obvious; it was just that every time this crew seemed to find something good, it came attached with a whole load of bad. Mal didn't like bad and her certainly didn't want it coming now when Serenity was one groan away from collapse. The jingling of coins distracted him and he looked down at the prize in his hands. If this was the purse every-time Simon fought then they would be here for a while. He had to accept that there was pretty much no work for them other than the most menial and the amount of time it would take to get enough money to make any significant improvements would probably only be reached when he was in his grave. He looked at the younger man's determined face, remembering their conversation a few weeks prior. Letting out a sigh, he threw the money back at the two of them.

"All right. Doc you sure you're up to it?" The man nodded in full seriousness. "Right then, that's yours. You won it fair and square and, if your right about this winners prize, then that won't make much difference in the long run. However, the second I see anything fishy, I'm pulling you out. Now, I'm sure you're both tired so get to your bunks."

They both smiled gratefully and made their way further into the ship. River joined her arm through her brother's, giving him a. Light kiss on the cheek. He waited until they got to the doorway before calling out: "You still gotta clean though!" 

* * *

 

Far away, in the next settlement over, a young man by the name of Sam was sat nursing a beer, complaining loudly. The man to his right, clouded in shadow, listened attentively, nodding in some places and humming in others. Sam had entered the house only a few moments ago after returning to from his trip from 'Dust Bowl', the neighbouring settlement. 

"Dad you should have seen 'im. All dressed up nice, hair polished, looking at us like we weren't worth the dirt beneath his feet. Would have taken them too if Picks hadn't shown up. Peasants! Me, a peasant." Sam fell into furious silence, a white knuckle grip almost cracking the glass. The man beside him just hummed again and gestured for one of the armed men around him to approach. He whispered an instruction into his ear and waited for him to leave before turning to his son. 

"This man, you could recognise him?" 

"Sure I could. Easy and all!" 

"Then everything will work out fine. Trust me boy, he'll pay for his disrespect. Nobody messes with my family and gets away with it, especially not some core bred dandy."

Sam just smirked and took another sip of his beer. 

 

 

 


	5. New day regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, my, my would you look at that delay? Only been a couple of months. I mean, look at me: Waaaayyy too long in updating and with no excuse. Its a shame. A real shame.  
> This is meant to be a small chapter, a little re-intro for me to get back into it. I do hope you enjoy the more light-hearted chapter after the previous heavy hitting (ha, ha, pun!).  
> If you haven't noticed, I edited chapter 3 and finished chapter 4, so make sure you check them out.  
> Anyway, please read and enjoy

Simon woke with a groan when a loud  **thud** stabbed the inside of his head. Everything  _hurt_ , even the part of the body he knew -as a doctor!- shouldn't hurt: But they did. The right side of his face was practically singing with agony and he daren't even paw at it. He tried rolling over and going back to sleep, begging the blissful arms of sweet dreams to envelop him again. 

**THUD**

"Ai Chr Jze Se Duh Fohn Diang Gho! Would you pack that in!"

"Good morning Doctor."

With a yelp Simon fell out of bed, his own body mimicking the thud from what he realised -poking bleary eyes from the bedsheet- was a heavy kit bag. He stared dumbly at it. He stared some more. Then, with a heavy sigh that seemed to sink into the ship around him, he raised his red eyes and tried to look a rather bemused Zoe in the face. She didn't say anything and he began to get unnerved, wondering what he'd done that ensured this....punishment? He felt a blush rising. Had he done something last night? Oh God he had hadn't he? Oh it was just like first year of MedAcad with Julie Goldbaum and Stephan-

"Good morning Doctor." Zoe repeated, breaking him from his panicky thoughts. She listened to his silence and raised an appropriate eyebrow - which is when he remembered his etiquette lessons and how it was generally considered polite to return salutations.

"Ah...Go..Good Morning Zoe."

_Smooth Tam. Real nice_

"Are you planning on...doing anything there or are you..." he trailed off, suddenly aware of his own semi-nakedness and the fact that _Zoe_ _was in his room!_

Zoe just smirked and kicked the bag again. It rattled and he wondered which parts of the ship had been stripped and put in there. With hardly a sound Zoe leaned down, swung it up and placed it on his bed. He could see her muscles straining with the effort; he was now regretting his decision to wake up - and it had only happened a minute a-go. She held a hand out to him and he took it gingerly. With a single, effortless movement she pulled him to his feet. With the other hand she threw his shirt at his chest.

"Get dressed doc, we've got a long day ahead of us."

* * *

Kaylee walked on to the cargo bay catwalk with head cocked. Mal, seeing the usual cheery smile stuck in a frown, moved from where he was chatting against the railing with Inara and came up alongside her. She didnt seem to notice his presence. They both stared in silence at the spectacle going on beneath them.

Breathing in pants, dripping sweat, legs trembling, Simon Tam was running (fast walking?) his way around the cargo bay; hopping over small boxes, ducking under sheets of metal and side-stepping cans of food. Oh, with a bag of spare metal on his back. The bruises on his face blended into the red skin. Zoe stood in the middle of this, yelling what could be taken as serious disappointment or really, really intense encouragement. The poor man looked ready for collapse but it was quite obvious that Zoe was at the height of her endurance. Jayne leaned against the cargo wall, chuckling and handing out a few 'pointers' that usually ended with Simon trying to cuss him out. Well, had. Simon had given up trying to produce any form of communication about a half-hour ago. Part of Mal wanted to go down thier and put an end to it; then he remembered what he went through in basic training and how the doc could really do with some  _character building._  

He couldnt hold back the chuckle when, upon collapsing, Zoe just toed Simon in the behind with her boot and dragged him up by the back of his drenched shirt. The younger man's eyes went searching for some pity but, finding none, he let out a moan and stumbled his way back around the course. Then fell. Again. Zoe just picked him back up and sent him on his way with a shout. 

"Ahh that's my warrior queen." Mal started at Wash's voice at his elbow. Man had gorram snuck up on him! 

"More like house torturer if'n you ask me." He responded, trying to maintain his Captain composure. Didn't really need to though, seeing as how the pilot had his eyes glued to his second-in-command.

"Yeah, that too." He got a dreamy look in his eyes that made him gag. "I mean, only last night she-"

"I think that's enough Wash, don't you got some things to see too?"

"Oh yeah, I'm looking at 'em right now." 

Said 'things' had now evolved from merely observing to actively participating. Simon was now in that ol' favourite, the Push-up, with Zoe stood almost on top of him, loudly counting how many he had done with how many he had left.

"1 of 200"  
"2 of 200"  
"3 of 200"

Good encourager that one. 

It also looked decidedly in-fun, he decided. Although, it certainly was fun  _watching_ it happen. More memories of boot camp floated through his head like a pipe dream: 5 o'clock runs through fog and mist, afternoons spent in the gym following hours of drill, drill sergeant yelling to high heaven as he struggled to do that last sit-up. Near all of it was plain useless but that didn't stop them from telling him it was fun and he should love doing it. He winced hard. He knew how the doc would be feeling come morning. Wash had now moved away, placing himself on the stairs to get a better angle. Kaylee, though, was still beside him, head still cocked and expression still confused. 

"What's up mei-mei?" 

"Oh nothing," she said, dreamlike. "just watchin' is all." Taking in the way she was looking, Mal was quite sure he knew exactly what she was watching as well. 

Kaylee and Simon had done little but make googlies at each other in the past months; private chats, hands just touching, small, chaste kisses to the cheek. Mal was about sick of it and just wished they would get on with it. Sure, he still had the no relationships rule but that had been stamped on quite vigorously so it was more a wish than an actually rule. Either way, the two needed to get a shift on before River took to locking them in a room together. He was, admittedly, less cautious about the two of them getting together after seeing Simon was able to look after himself - he would always worry about Kaylee though.

A loud groan interrupted his musings and he looked back at the young man in question. Said man was currently rather pathetic, lying on the floor in his own sweat, groaning as Zoe told him he had five more to go. It was like watching a dying animal as he weakly pushed himself up-down-up-down-up-down, down, down, still down. Zoe toed his side and Simon finally managed to finish the last two, collapsing to the floor with a heavy thud. He let out a whimper. Zoe, in sympathy, poured water on his head, snapping him to attention. Sympathy? Perhaps sadism was more accurate. 

Simon pushed himself - rather shakily - to his feet, knees knocking and breath escaping him in small wheezes. The boy looked ready to give up and Mal wondered how long this had been going on; Simon had already been sweating when he'd turned up twenty minutes ago.

"2 hours, 14 minutes and 27 seconds"

"Gah! What is it with you people sneakin' up on me! Should put a load of cattle bells on ya."

"Wouldn't work. Too easy to slip."

Mal didn't bother telling the younger Tam he was being rhetorical: she probably already knew. River was staring intently at the torture going on in the cargo bay and, if he wasnt much mistaken, he reckoned there was a hint of amusement in those brown eyes. So much for sibling love and all that.

"Still love him, just...funny."

He didn't even flinch this time. "Yeah, I reckon so."

River's gaze never left her brother as she continued speaking in her wisty way. Her apperance had also shaken Kaylee out of her musings, and they both listened as the strange girl continued to speak, seemingly unaware of her surroundings. 

"Never knew. Never saw. He would could home with bruises and we'd sit in the kitchen together, 'Just fell' and then we'd laugh and call him stupid. How come I never saw? I saw _everything."_

She'd never raised her voice at the end, and Mal doubted if she was fully aware of what she was admitting. Since their brush with Mrs Niska the young girl had said things implying that Simon had hid his talents from her. Considering what the doc had told them she was like, he considered that quite a feat. River had apparently waxed to most of the crew about moments which, now, seem quite obvious but at the time she mistook for Simon being clumsy or getting on the wrong side of some guy's girl. It seemed to Mal that she wasnt angry at him for ommiting that part of himself, but that she hadnt been there to help him like he did with her. He was also reminded of how 'unique' she was when she went from passive frustration to giggling. 

"What is it honey?" Asked Kaylee, worrying if she was about to have an episode. River just shook her head and whispered 'Silly Simon' so softly that even Mal struggled to hear. Both Captain and mechanic looked back on the cargo bay and caught the tail end of the conversation.

"-but Zoe, we've been here for  _ages."_

"That might by doctor, but that was only the warm up."

Jayne burst out laughing as Simon just threw himself to the floor with a cry of agony. Kaylee just 'awwed'.

* * *

Simon almost cried when Zoe hauled the bag off his back. He almost laughed with delirium when she had to grab him so he didn't topple backwards. He'd trained before -oh sure, drills in the gym, sparring in the ring, long runs through the backstreets of Osiris. Sam wanted all his fighters in top shape and had pushed them to get there. 

But  _this._

This was torture. This was not exercise or training or whatever the hell Zoe called it. It felt like he'd been beaten for days on end, and then Zoe told him that was only the warm-up. The warm-up! Gorram he wanted to die. Looking at Zoe's face though, he realised she would probably follow him just to drag him back and make him finish. Why couldn't he have joined another crew all them months ago? Why didn't he get off this gorram crew after Jubal early? Why didn't-

Zoe slapped him on the bruised side of his face.

He cried out, bending in double. Through cling-film he could hear Kaylee saying something, but he was more focused on the line of blood staining his hand. He stared at it for a moment before turning his eyes to Zoe. The woman had her hands up in a boxers guard and was fixing him with a stern look. She lashed out again and he managed to get his arm up in time, stopping it in its tracks. He shot her a questioning look.

"We're going to start on blocking." And with that, she really did start on blocking. 

Simon had to throw his guard up quickly to avoid the flurry of precise strikes flying his way. Zoe was quick and it was a struggle to keep up some of the time. Occasionally she got a hit in; a slap that made him grunt and close his guard more, anxious to avoid the next one. She started moving left and right, he started weaving right and left. She moved forwards, he dodged back. Like a strange dance of dominance they moved through the cargo bay, one side vicious and the other determined. Their feet spun and their hands surged with energy. All the while Zoe called out instructions, improvements; a yelled 'higher' or a mumbled 'lower'. 

She moved to kicks and he found himself dodging more and blocking less. A front kick came at him and he hopped to the left, pushing it away with his forearm. From then on it became more furious, more angry. The dance moved faster, becoming a blur of movement. Zoe struck him less and less and, by the end, she was the one grunting as she tried to break through his guard. A further minute and she stopped. Simon stopped dead but kept the guard up, cautious of any tricks. Seeing none, he stood straight and stared at her, panting hard and waiting for further instruction. 

"Now, your turn."

* * *

Hours later -though it certainly felt like days- Simon was allowed to stop. After blocking they went to striking. After striking they went to kicking. After kicking they went to ground work and that was when Zoe decided they'd done enough. The two of them had collapsed, side-by-side, panting, until they were called for dinner. If Simon were to be honest, he didn't remember eating. Any jokes at his expense went over his head as he just shovelled the mush into his mouth. He reckoned that mush had never tasted so good - if he could remember what taste was. 

Zoe had told him that on the days he was not fighting he would be training. It was all well and good fighting a bag hanging from the ceiling, but even Simon had admitted that he was out of practice when it came to actual fighting. The previous night was probably a fluke and if he wanted a serious chance to win the tournament, he would need to get back into it. The only downside was that  _Zoe_ insisted on doing the training. Zoe. He had to resist crying at the thought of more days like that. 

He walked -leaned on the walls- back to his bunk, almost crashing into Kaylee as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. The two of them jumped back and began bashfully apologising. Simon could feel himself going red in the face so he held up a hand to stop both their rambling.

"Its fine. It was an accident. Just glad I didn't actually hit you or else I would of collapsed."

"Oh. Oh no, was the training really that bad."

He suddenly didn't hurt so much. "No, no it wasn't that bad...just not used to it is all. Probably get better with time though so..."

They drifted off into that awkward silence that seemed to fill most of their conversations. He'd thought they'd be past this point but it seemed he couldn't quite get any words out. Luckily, it seemed Kaylee was on the ball that day.

"I was in town earlier and I saw this little Chinese food place."

"Oh yeah?" 

"Well it looked all homely and nice and...lovely?"

"Really..uhh, sounds nice."

"Yeah. Would be nice if I could go with someone."

"You could probably ask Inara." An angel then wacked the back of his head with a jackhammer. "Or  _me."_ She looked hopeful and he realised this was what happened when you actually had good conversations. "Would...would you like that? To go with me tomorrow evening?"

"Oh  _Simon."_ She gave him a hug and he tried to hold back the groan as his muscles protested. "Sure, I'd like that. Tomorrow evening?"

He nodded and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before running off upstairs, most likely to tell Inara. he let out a shaky breath and hobbled back towards his bunk, surprisingly content for the moment. 

* * *

From the doorway of the cargo bay Mal heard the conversation. Strangely enough, he began to smile.

 


End file.
